We Relit the Flame. Now Comes the Work.

 

We relit the flame of liberty last Tuesday.

Americans of all stripes rose up to rekindle a light that had been flickering. Now the work gets harder. We’ve got to work together to keep it shining.

We have two years to show what a broad coalition of patriots — left, right, and center — can accomplish. We must “hang together,” as Franklin is said to have warned his fellow patriots. We face a formidable task, with a bitter and petty group bunkered in the White House and a Supreme Court that seems to have forgotten what the War of Independence was all about.

We need to hammer out a realistic plan, with clear priorities and enough common ground to turn an electoral rejection into lasting repair.

I keep thinking about the Americans who confronted the failures of the Articles of Confederation. Their disagreements were deep. The Constitution they hammered out through wrenching compromises was imperfect, sometimes tragically so. But building a workable republic required agreement among people who would never agree on everything.

My readers -- both of them! <grin> -- likely tire of my frequent reminders of the Constitution’s Preamble, shaped by Gouverneur Morris’s eloquent pen. Form a more perfect union. Establish justice. Insure domestic tranquility. Provide for the common defense. Promote the general welfare. Secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity.

That statement of purpose should be kept before us always.

For the next two years, I believe our Democratic Congress should begin with measures that have the broadest public support: practical improvements in people’s lives and strong safeguards against the abuse of public power. Identify that common ground. Write sound legislation. Pass it. Then move to the next achievable task.

A likely presidential veto is no reason to abandon that work. Put clear, workable proposals before the country. Give Americans something concrete to judge, and make clear who supports those measures and who stands in their way.

None of us needs to surrender a deeply held conviction. But we must distinguish between what we hope eventually to accomplish and what we can accomplish together now. Measures requiring longer debate and harder compromises deserve that work; they should not prevent action where agreement already exists.

These two years will also be complicated by the jockeying for the presidency. Ambitious politicians in both parties are already looking toward 2028. Governor Pritzker, for example, has already offered an agenda with much to recommend it, and I have borrowed some of its proposals here. Others will bring their own ideas and ambitions. Fine. But we cannot allow competing presidential campaigns to derail the congressional work before us. If we squander this opportunity, we can lose our majorities and our chance at the presidency just as quickly as Republicans lost their majorities last Tuesday.

Here are some priorities I believe could command majority support, though we should test that belief by listening well beyond our own circles:

End the war in Iran. Investigate government corruption and strengthen the laws and oversight that prevent it. Protect our borders while ending cruelty in immigration enforcement. Support democratic republics abroad and rebuild our alliances. End the destructive tariffs and ensure that refunds reach consumers. Stop sweetheart deals for data centers.

Restore and adequately fund Medicaid, the Affordable Care Act, SNAP, and our public-health programs. Raise the federal minimum wage. Restore Voting Rights Act protections and put abortion protections into federal law. Restore education programs and grants. Invest in infrastructure and clean energy nationwide. Replace lead water pipes. Strengthen FEMA’s ability to help people when disaster strikes.

That is more than enough work to require hard choices about what comes first. We need an order of action, with clear goals and an honest account of what each measure will cost and accomplish.

I believe this MAGA administration is the most corrupt in American history and deserves impeachment and removal. But Trump’s second impeachment taught us that even a Senate majority favoring conviction is not enough: removal requires a two-thirds supermajority of the senators present. We must weigh what is achievable and avoid letting an unlikely removal effort consume or obscure the legislative work Americans need.

Still, there must be accountability. Investigations, oversight, and any resulting legal proceedings MUST follow the evidence, respect due process, and apply standards we would accept for our own leaders. The public MUST be able to see the difference between accountability under law and vengeance against political opponents.

And We the People must be part of this effort from beginning to end. Members of Congress, governors, state legislators, and citizens throughout this coalition must explain what is being proposed, listen to objections, report progress honestly, and keep showing how each step serves the purposes of our republic.

We must also keep our humility. Treating the anti-MAGA tsunami as a blanket endorsement of the Democratic Party could undo everything we hope to accomplish.

Public trust must be earned through what we do next.

We are Democrats. Will Rogers knew us: “I am not a member of any organized political party. I am a Democrat.” Well, we’d better get our act together — and keep it together for the next two years.

Our tent is big, and our disagreements will endure. But the circle guarding liberty’s flame must be wider still. We need every willing keeper — left, right, and center — to help it burn brighter, strengthen its shelter, and pass it safely to our children and theirs.

Even an eternal flame needs its keepers.

Evening Walk

 I waited till 4:30 p.m. to take my walk while Sheila went to the Elections meeting. I'd intended to walk toward town but there were several other folks headed that way when I climbed the levee so, preferring to walk alone I headed upstream. It was nice to see this beautiful trail in the dramatic evening light. I misjudged though. It was beginning to to turn to dusk as I got to near the Armuchee bypass so I turned around at the cotton fields. But soon I realized it would be full dark before I got home. By the time I got back to Verteran's Memorial Highway bridge if was full dark which made for a bit of an eerie walk the rest of the way.

I Outspent Elon Musk!

AI's take on Elon's shrug and my grin.

Reports are that Elon Musk poured roughly $450 million of his considerable fortune into Republican political campaigns this year. I was pleased to contribute to a considerably smaller assortment of candidates myself: Vincent Mendes, Shawn Harris, Keisha Lance Bottoms, Jon Ossoff, Scott Colom, and the DNC, DCCC, and DSCC. I may be overlooking one or two.

And my donations were MUCH bigger than Musk's!

Well, proportionally speaking, that is. And as it turns out, I got a whole lot more for my money!

I read that Elon Musk was making jokes about the election results after spending nearly half a billion dollars trying to elect Republicans. He even posted a little shrug emoji, apparently taking his losses in stride.

I reckon it's easier to shrug off a few hundred million dollars when you've got hundreds of billions more where that came from.

I imagine my contributions didn't attract nearly as much attention as Elon's, but: When you compare what each of us gave with what each of us has, my contributions represented a MUCH bigger share of my wealth than his did.

In fact, for an American family with the median net worth, matching Musk's generosity would require a political contribution of only a little over a hundred dollars.

I'm a retired teacher. I've bought exactly two brand-new cars in my seventy-nine years, and the last one was a 1973 Chevy Blazer. Every vehicle I've bought since has had a previous owner. Our refrigerator is twenty years old, too. I suspect Elon and I have somewhat different ideas about what constitutes a financial sacrifice.

But here's the best part. Several of the candidates I supported WON! And the ones who didn't win themselves helped get out more votes for those who did. Meanwhile, most of the folks Elon spent a pittance of his fortune trying to elect went down to defeat.

So I reckon this old schoolteacher got a considerably better return on his political investment than the richest man in the world.

And there's one final difference between us.

Elon Musk responded to the election results with a shrug.

Y'all know I hollered loud enough to wake the dead with each new victory Tuesday night. And every holler came through a great big GRIN!

Back on the Riverwalk

It has been way too long. Politics and a sore knee have kept me away from my morning walks. Today I determined I'd get back to it and I did. I got out about seven and walk the "complete circuit" -- that is I walked from our house up the Riverwalk and Mt. Berry Trail to the Armuchee connector -- detouring a bit to refresh my coffee at the new service station near the stadium. Then I went back to the trail near the Vetrans Memorial overpass and through Ridge Ferry Park, across the Turner McCall Bridge and back home. 14,828 steps. Things have changed during my time away. 

Pretty poison.

Savannah

Perhaps the sign of the cross is a bit of a heavenly celebration of Tuesday night?

We got an inch of rain over the last two days.

Mississippi is in play!

I just sent a hundred bucks to Scott Colom’s Senate campaign in Mississippi.

I remember all too well from January 2021 what a time-consuming and tedious job it can be to “cure” ballots in a close election like this one.

There are likely MANY provisional ballots scattered across Mississippi, but only a handful in any given precinct. Often the problem is something simple: a voter showed up without the required ID, or someone made a technical mistake on an absentee ballot.

In many cases, the problem is easy enough to fix. But somebody has to find that voter, explain the problem, and help them understand exactly what they need to do. Sometimes that means actually driving to somebody’s house, knocking on the door, and helping them through the process.

I know. I've done it.

In January 2021, I drove way out into the countryside to a lonely farmhouse in Polk County to help an elderly woman cure her ballot. She was in her eighties and had been voting for decades. She was astonished to learn there was a problem with her ballot. She'd never had any trouble voting before!

And she was SO grateful that somebody had taken the time and trouble to come all that way to make sure her vote would count.

On another trip I drove way up Lookout Mountain, almost to the Tennessee line, to help another voter with a single ballot.

Those are just two examples. Think about it. All those miles, all that time and effort, for ONE vote at a time.

Now multiply that by hundreds of precincts scattered across an entire state!

With so little time left, Colom needs a BIG team of people working to make sure every legitimate vote is counted.

If you can spare a few dollars, I hope you'll join me in making a donation to help with that effort. There are only a VERY few days left to cure these ballots, and every hour matters.

I wish I could just drop everything and drive to Mississippi to help!

I keep thinking about that sweet lady in Polk County. She had done what she'd been doing for decades. She had voted. She had every reason to believe her vote would count. And if nobody had come knocking on her door, she might never even have known there was a problem.

How many people like her are out there in Mississippi right now?

Those folks took the trouble to vote. They did their part as citizens. If their ballots are legitimate and the problems can be corrected, those votes deserve to be counted.

An election this close ought to be decided by the voters, not by a missing signature, a forgotten ID, or a technicality that could have been corrected if only someone had reached out in time.

Let's help make sure the voters of Mississippi have the final word.

Democrats Gather Tomorrow!

 Please join us TOMORROW at the Floyd County Democratic Party's monthly meeting!

Yes, let's celebrate yesterday's wonderful victories! We've earned a little celebrating. But even more importantly, let's encourage one another, welcome some new faces, and roll up our sleeves for the work ahead — the municipal elections of 2027 and the presidential election of 2028!

I have a theory about why we won yesterday.

We raised a BIG tent. A tent with room for moderate Republicans and former Republicans, independents, mainstream Democrats, progressive Democrats, and even Democratic Socialists. (No Communists, by the way! )

And we did it without apologizing for our patriotism.

I believe deeply in the six great purposes of our Constitution, set out in its Preamble. And I especially love the very first: “to form a more perfect Union.”

Not a PERFECT union. A MORE perfect one.

Our founders knew they hadn't created a perfect nation. Far from it. They left us a country with terrible contradictions and injustices, but also with the means and the responsibility to keep making it better.

A union of human beings can never be perfect. But it can always be MORE perfect.

That's the patriotism I believe in. We don't have to pretend our country has no flaws. We love it enough to acknowledge those flaws, learn from them, and work to correct them. That's not a rejection of America. That's a fulfillment of the promise written into the very first sentence of our Constitution.

And that's work that never ends — no matter how wonderful an election night we may have enjoyed.

So come celebrate with us tomorrow. Bring your ideas, your energy, your disagreements, and your hopes for our community and our country.

There's room in this tent for you, too!

Look what happened in Georgia today

Remember when the fellow who lives in the largest private home in Georgia, and who can choose from 18 restrooms whenever nature calls, spent MANY millions of dollars trying to convince us that the kind young woman standing between Sheila and me in this photograph had crawled straight out of the infernal depths?

Well, that young woman is now the governor-elect of Georgia.

And tonight I find myself thinking about my daughters and my four granddaughters. And about all those little nine- and ten-year-olds who passed through my classrooms during my 33 years as a teacher. Especially the little girls of color.

I wonder how many times some of those little girls were made to feel that certain doors were closed to them. That certain dreams were too big. That certain places of honor and leadership were meant for somebody else.

And I wish I could gather every one of them around me tonight, point to this photograph, and say, "Look, sweetheart. Look what happened in Georgia today."

Because somewhere tonight, a little girl is going to bed in a state where someone who looks like her has just been elected governor.

She may not understand all that means just yet.

But someday she will.

And as for this old schoolteacher, who has lived long enough to see some wonderful changes and some heartbreaking setbacks, I have to confess that my computer screen is getting awfully misty.

Our Responsibility

 This post by Stephen Harrell Jr. appeared on Facebook this morning:

Nobody tells you when you’re a kid that one random Sunday at Grandma’s house will eventually be the last time everyone is there at the same time.

The kids are running in and out of the house.

Somebody’s yelling, “STOP SLAMMING THAT DOOR!”

The adults are sitting around the kitchen table talking about things you couldn’t care less about.

There’s food everywhere.

Someone is asleep in a recliner.

You can hear the TV from the other room.

You’re bored half the time and begging to go home.

And you have absolutely no idea that you are standing inside a memory you will spend the rest of your life wishing you could walk back into.

Then everybody grows up.

The cousins move away.

People get married.

Families get busy.

Grandparents get older.

The house gets sold.

Some people stop speaking.

Some people are no longer here.

And suddenly you’d give just about anything to sit at that kitchen table for ten more minutes and hear everybody’s voices coming from different rooms.

The older I get, the more I realize…

We weren’t “just going to Grandma’s house.”

We were going to the one place where our entire family still belonged to each other.

And somehow none of us realized it was temporary.

If you had a house like that growing up, you were richer than you knew

Well, I happened upon this as I sipped my coffee this morning, and suddenly a flood of memories washed over me. Houses, rooms, tables crowded with people, familiar voices, laughter, and faces I haven't seen in years. Some of those faces I will never see again, at least in this life.

Mama Shaw's house nowadays.

The family poses for a Christmas picture in the last fifties at Mama Shaw's house.

Feasting at Mama Shaw's

Feasting at Mama Shaw's

Mama Shaw’s little house in Milstead, Georgia, bursting at the seams with the families of her five boisterous boys. 

Mama Baird's house as it looks these days.

Mama Baird cutting one of her huge cakes.

Mama Baird with eight of her grandchildren

Mama Baird with eight of her eleven children

Sixteen miles away, at 45 Hazel Street in Porterdale, my other grandmother’s house, filled with the nine of her eleven children who lived to adulthood, and what seemed like an endless supply of cousins.

Then all those parsonages I grew up in, from Adams County, Ohio, to Jessamine and Washington counties in Kentucky, to Spalding, Gilmer, Floyd, and Fulton counties in Georgia. Each one home to our family for a season, as we children grew up and eventually began making homes of our own.

And what memories live in those later homes of my brother and sisters, and in the places Mama called home in her later years! The family scattered, the gatherings changed, but the bonds remained.

And the houses that welcomed me into a whole new family in 1971, in Tallahassee and Quincy, Florida, and Headland, Alabama. New faces, new stories, new people to love.

There were the homes of dear friends that became second homes to us. At least four different Burton houses in Rome and Booger Hollow. The Greears on Mount Alto. The Franklins in East Rome. Doors that were always open, tables where there was always room for one more, friendships that became part of the fabric of our lives.

And, of course, our own homes. Our little cabin on Lake Creek, the bungalow on Cedar Avenue, and this big old house where, after all the years of children and sleepovers, comings and goings, laughter and commotion, it's usually just the two of us now.

The hardest thing about living to seventy-nine, I think, is accepting that the world is peopled a little differently with every passing year. The houses may still stand, but the people who made them home are changing. So many of those dear faces are gone now. Yet I can still hear their voices, walk through those rooms in my memory, and almost pull up a chair to join the conversation around those crowded tables.

And I find myself wondering what those who came before us would think of the world we are leaving to those who come after us.

I am profoundly grateful for all those people—family, friends, former students, fellow church members, neighbors—who helped make my world a better place. They gave me love, encouragement, opportunity, and the blessings of liberty that I have enjoyed throughout my life. Many of them lived through hard times, made sacrifices, and worked to leave this country a little better than they found it.

I hope I have done, and will continue to do, my part to pass those blessings along. I hope the generations coming after us will inherit not only our houses and possessions, but a country worthy of the hopes and sacrifices of those who came before.

And so, on this Election Day, with all those faces and memories crowding my mind, I have one simple request.

Please vote.

Vote with gratitude for those who came before us, with love for those who share this world with us today, and with hope for those who will come after us.

Our time here is fleeting. Our responsibility to the future is not.

And this precious Republic of ours is worth the effort.